


My Soul to Trade

by Courtanie



Category: South Park
Genre: Comfort/Angst, M/M, Self-Sacrifice, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:25:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5667652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courtanie/pseuds/Courtanie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyle would give anything to rid Kenny of the misery his constant deaths bring about. The antichrist may just take him up on that offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Soul to Trade

He was getting tired. Far, _far_ too tired.

Kyle watched from their couch as he stumbled out of their bedroom, blonde hair disheveled beyond repair and an emptiness echoing within those light blue eyes that threatened to send the redhead reeling back. He watched him sympathetically and set down the paperwork in his hand, getting to his feet to make way over to the taller. "You okay?" he asked gently, hand going up to cup a finely sculpted jawline.

Kenny forced a weak smile on his face, nodding. "I'm fine. Just...sorry," he murmured.

Kyle narrowed his eyes in the slightest. "Sorry for what?"

He sighed, wrapping his arms around the boy's waist and tugging him in tightly, Kyle able to feel the exhausted twitching rebounding through the thin flesh pressing against his back. "Sorry I missed our anniversary," he grumbled.

The redhead pressed his head against his chest, taking a long breath. "Neither of us saw the truck coming, Kenny. It's fine, we'll just reschedule."

"We shouldn't _have to_ ," he bit miserably, clutching around him tighter.

Kyle bit his lip, slowly leading him backwards for the both of them to settle on the couch, Kenny still clinging onto him as they fell to the cushions. He redirected his face to Kyle's shoulder, broken sobs haphazardly slipping through his throat. "Shhh," Kyle cooed, reaching up and stroking through the newly formed locks of hair dancing like wheat along his fingertips. This was almost becoming routine; a routine that Kyle dreaded beyond all others.

Years of brushing off death after death was not doing Kenny well, repression building within him until six months ago, when the dam finally burst. Now every reincarnation was greeted with him trying to stop crying, trying _desperately_ not to burden Kyle with the horrible thoughts that plagued him day after day. He couldn't sleep, he could barely eat. He just wanted it all to _end_. Which way it decided to go, he didn't _care_ at this point. Whether it be he fall into a normal life or die for good, at least either way he could finally _sleep_.

"I gotcha," Kyle murmured, kissing his temple lightly as another heavy round of sobs broke out.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the mantra was a constant, both of them knowing Kyle's repeated but always _truthful_ response: "You have nothing to be sorry about".

Years of staving through this disaster together had made Kyle immune to the idea of it being what separated them in the end, rings on their fingers and a mortgage in the bank signified that plenty enough on their own. They both hated this, both stuck in a state of utter _helplessness_. Kenny unable to control fate, and Kyle never having the answers for him like he did for so many other problems that plagued them.

"Shhh," Kyle repeated, soothingly petting him down. Kenny lavished in physical comfort, easily slipping into the warm, calming tide of Kyle's fingers and familiar voice. It always reminded him of what he _did_ live for, why he hadn't resorted to reincarnating just to automatically off himself yet again. The deaths had never bothered him until he had something to _miss_. He'd missed out on so many days of his and Kyle's life, just _barely_ able to escape being crushed by a rafter for their damn wedding two years beforehand. He'd missed Kyle's graduation, his first day at his new job in his dad's law firm. He'd missed Stan and Wendy's first baby being born, the meeting at the adoption agency for himself and Kyle to try to start their own family. The consensus had been heartbreaking for them both, but they knew it was inevitable and the only sensible thing to do: They were just going to have to forego a family until things evened out.

The thought was consistently looping, wondering if he was ruining _Kyle's_ life while being absent for his own. The redhead never said anything of the sort, just happy to see him again when he finally made his way back into the Earthly realm. There was no hatred in those eyes, no disappointment or _regret_ , just _relief._ But that didn't stop the doubt from lingering, constantly in a panic while stuck in Hell that he'd come back to an emptied home and a letter with a simple 'I'm sorry' from his husband. It was nearly as detrimental as the deaths themselves, unable to _cope_ with the concept of losing his physical being _and_ the only thing that'd managed to hold him together all these years.

"Kenny?" Kyle's voice brought him back out of the darkness of fear. His redhead _always_ brought him back into the light.

"Hm?" he sniffled.

Kyle placed his slim fingers under Kenny's chin, raising him off his tear-soaked dress shirt, not the least bit bothered by the moist fabric clinging to his skin. He gave him a soft, reassuring smile, the one that Kenny dreamed of while he waited out his time in the afterlife. "Kenny, it's okay," he assured him, stroking his cheek with his thumb.

"No it's not," he rasped.

He sighed, "Maybe...maybe we can find someone for you to...talk to," he said slowly, wincing at the rare anger flashing through those crystalline eyes.

"Who the _fuck_ is an expert in this?!" he gestured to himself desperately. "You're the only one who knows and...and you're not a fucking psychologist!"

Kyle gulped, nodding slowly. He knew it was a stupid idea, but he was so burnt out on trying to find a solution, almost _anything_ was sounding like brilliance in his weary mind. He definitely regretted not choosing being a damn therapist as his line of work, though, that was for damn sure. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just want to help and...and I don't know how," he admitted quietly, brushing knotted locks out of stained eyes.

The rage dissipated all at once, Kenny's body slumping and another sniffle breaking through. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and nodded, "I know...I know. I didn't mean to...to yell..."

"You're fine," he promised, kissing his forehead softly. "Come on," he urged, getting to his feet and helping Kenny up beside him. The blonde leaned on him, nuzzling against his curls as Kyle slowly walked him into the kitchen, sitting him down at their table. He kissed him softly, Kenny humming with comfort at the familiarity of those lips pressed against him. Kyle was warm, he smelled like vanilla and mint. He was the epitome of soothing against his tumultuous mortality.

A sliding sound caught his attention, looking down to see a pack of menthols and an ashtray placed in front of him. He looked up and smiled meekly. "Remember when you hated that I smoke?"

"Remember how you got _me_ hooked?" he teased lightly, handing him a cigarette and watching him place it between his lips. He quickly ignited a Bic with a tacky purple and blue paisley design splattered over the plastic coating, holding it against the tip of the stick. Kenny inhaled deeply, letting the soothing rush invade his senses as Kyle brought the flame back, lighting his own cigarette and letting the lighter clatter on the table.

"Thanks," he whispered.

Kyle paused, leaning down and removing his cigarette to plant a kiss in his hair. "Of course," he murmured against his scalp. He leaned back up, gnawing the filter with his front teeth as he made way across the kitchen, digging through cabinets and tossing a dish on the counter into the microwave. Kenny stared down blankly at the oaken table, a wedding present from Kyle's parents. Far too big for the two of them alone, able to seat at least seven people. _"For guests or...you know..."_ Sheila had grinned, elbowing them both with that longing look in her eyes. No one was subtle around them, telling them how _fantastic_ of parents they could be what with Kyle's sensibilities and Kenny's need to lavish all his affection on cute things. They'd been dancing around interrogations from both sides of their families for the last two years, making excuses of Kyle's hours being too rough or money being too tight.

Kenny slunk in his chair, taking another long, needed drag. But no. _He_ was the reason. And it was destroying him more than any wood-chipper ever had.

He jerked back as a steaming tupperware container was slid in front of him. "Made that cream cheese chicken you like," Kyle informed him, placing a fork and napkin beside the dish and heading over to his tea kettle set over the powerburner. He watched steam rising as he scrambled to find a mug from the cabinet above the stove, gritting his teeth as he balanced on his tiptoes trying to reach the ceramic containers.

"Need help?" Ken offered.

"No, you eat," he ordered from around his cigarette, giving him a sharp look before returning to the task at hand. Kenny sighed, turning and stabbing his chicken. He brought it up to his mouth and chomped down on the tender, savory flavor, letting himself melt into the moment that Kyle had crafted for him. He frowned to himself, wondering if he could take care of Kyle like he had him for so long. He'd returned more than once to find Kyle sick, once in the hospital in a near-coma from insulin gone awry. He'd never been able to coddle him like he wanted, Kyle far too concerned about _him_ for Kenny to get a word in edgewise. He shook his head. There had to be _some_ part of the redhead that resented him, he was just damn good at hiding it.

Kyle watched him eating in silence for a moment, turning back and swiping his mug and a packet of vanilla hot cocoa. He bit his lip, subtly grabbing a pill from a discreet bottle concealed behind the sugar canister. He sighed to himself. He hated doing this all the time, hated slipping Kenny damn sleeping pills. But he just couldn't handle waking up every few hours to see him staring blankly at the ceiling, eyes lost in a hazy mist of sorrow that no amount of Kyle bringing light in could clear. Silently, he grasped the mug, rolling it over the pill and crushing it under the sound of the whistling tea kettle. He quickly swept the powder into his palm, briskly dumping the cocoa mix over it within the mug and ashing his cigarette into the sink. He snagged a towel and turned off the stove, grasping around the burning plastic handle and watching the steaming water cascade down, sloshing through the mixture. He placed the pot down, shaking out his hand and grasping a coffee stirrer from beside his pot, mixing the concoction and walking back over to set the mug in front of his husband.

Kenny looked up and gave him another small smile, getting a returned expression as Kyle sat in the seat next to him, sliding the ashtray between the both of them. "Ken, what can I do?" he asked quietly.

That question. The one he asked _every time_. He just prayed he'd get an actual answer this time around. Kenny sighed, looking at him with those defeated eyes and Kyle's heart lurched miserably at the sight. "Just...be here," he said, the begging tone evident maybe only to the redhead beside of him, but it rang clear enough like a bell for him.

"Always," he promised, reaching up and rubbing his shoulder softly. Kenny kissed his hand, taking a long sip of his drink through the stirrer as Kyle watched him intently. He dug his fingers just a bit into Kenny's skin and his own eyes drooped sleepily. One day this would go back normal...It just _had to_.

* * *

Kyle looked back from the bathroom, seeing Kenny restlessly tossing on their bed, soft groans pervading the air. He sighed to himself, looking back in the mirror as he listlessly brushed his teeth, free fingers clenched around the edge of the counter. He missed the days when Kenny seemed so nonchalant about the entire predicament. Kyle cursed himself nonstop for not catching his walls breaking sooner, but Kenny had a talent for redirecting his focus onto other matters in mere seconds. He'd just never expected it to get like this, never being one for holding someone constantly while they broke and he couldn't save them. He couldn't find his solution so easily, unable to comprehend fighting against a fucked destiny itself. No amount of logic and reasoning could tackle such complex matters, much as it pained him to admit.

He spat his toothpaste into the sink, switching on the faucet and watching the foamed mess swirl down the drain. Cupping his hand and catching some of the cooled tap, he raised it to his lips, sloshing the rinse around in his jaw as he cleaned off his brush. He was just as tired as Kenny, but he knew that it was destroying the blonde more than it ever could him. All Kyle had to do was wait and comfort; Kenny had lifetimes to reset.

He spat down the drain again and shut off the water, blindly setting his toothbrush back in the holder. He hissed as his finger slashed across Kenny's razor set up in the space beside it, bringing the digit back to him and cradling it protectively. He watched the slits of skin spreading wider, blood seeping out and rushing down his finger. His mind went into a daze for a moment, certain _flashbacks_ poking through his riddled subconscious. He'd watched Kenny die so many times. He'd watched blood rushing out, those eyes that he loved so much fading away into nothingness. He'd heard him _scream_ in agony, in terror time and again. He bit his lip, body trembling and tears beginning to leak down his cheeks, covering his mouth with his clean hand to stop loud sobs from escaping and risking waking Kenny up, despite knowing with those pills, it'd take more than a little crying to arose his unconscious form. He sniffled, looking into his own bloodshot eyes and wondering just _how much longer they could take this._

' _I just want to help him,'_ he thought miserably, grabbing one of Kenny's discarded shirts from the countertop and wrapping his bleeding finger, closing his eyes as he applied the pressure. _'This just isn't_ _ **fair**_ _. He doesn't deserve this...'_ he shook his head, bringing his tear soaked face down into the clothing and letting himself take the raggedy breath that so needed to escape his lungs. He tried so _hard_ not to let this all get the best of him, but it just couldn't be avoided now and again. He'd never let go of it all around Kenny, he'd trained himself not to. But the overwhelming convalescence was reconstructed time and again, overwhelming him on top of every other little fucking detail in his day-to-day life. He coughed out another bout of sobs. "Goddammit," he whimpered into the fabric that so smelled like Kenny, that comforting mix of dirt and _life_ that was so horribly ironic it nearly made him sick. "Please, just make it _stop_ ," he prayed.

"And just _what_ do you want to stop?" an oily, unfamiliar voice breeched the air. He turned in shock, eyes wide at a tall noirette standing leaning against the wall by the shower, a smug smirk over his face. Kyle gulped, noting the pure rubies that made his eyes, jaw trembling and the tears vanishing from his lashes in an instant. He flickered his gaze to Kenny still innocently tossing and turning on the bed, pivoting his foot to make a run for it. The man looked at him and chuckled, "So _you're_ McCormick's little bitch, hm?"

Kyle narrowed his eyes, "Who the fuck-"

"Damien," he said smoothly, flicking a pebble of charcoal from off his shirt.

He stared at him confusedly, the name sounding alarms that he couldn't seem to link together until the puzzle snapped itself right into place. "You're Satan's son," he said blankly.

He looked at him in surprise, " _Very_ good," came a condescending tone. "And _you're_ the little _brat_ that McCormick tends to whine about missing."

Kyle grated his cheek, still ready to rush out the bathroom door. "Why are you here?"

"Because _you want me here_ ," he hissed smartly, snagging the shirt from his hands and waving it in front of his flinching face. "Burning need, an artifact of your desire, tears, and blood, Little Kyle. That's _all_ it takes to get my attention...for a matter like this at least," he purred, urgent voice dropping to a smooth canticle ringing through the small enclosed space.

"I didn't ask for you-"

"You _asked_ for a _soul to be saved_ ," he reminded him, stepping closer and watching amusedly as Kyle took a cautious step backwards. The redhead looked at a sly grin creeping up his face, fangs jotting down starkly from behind paled lips. "Happens to be _my_ jurisdiction," he shrugged, looking down at the stained fabric in his hands curiously. Kyle watched in bewilderment as he dragged a clawed finger through the blood along the cotton, raising it to his lips and a forked tongue swiping over the stain. "Oh, your desire is _strong_ ," he grinned deviously.

Kyle could only vaguely remember Kenny once telling him about Damien years beforehand. How he was an asshole above all else, someone Kenny only went to out of sheer boredom.

But there was another element that Ken had emphasized: Damien was _powerful_.

He tongued over his lips, "You...you can save Kenny?" he asked quietly.

"Depends," he shrugged. "What's your definition of _save_?"

He narrowed his eyes, "He deserves to have a normal _life_ , to not die all the fucking time. It's not fair to him."

Damien looked between him and the slumbering blonde not twenty feet from them and nodded, "Oh, I agree. His soul is wrecked something awful, is it not?"

"Can you fix it?" he demanded.

Damien slid his eyes back over him sharply, Kyle feeling a shiver pass through his spine that he couldn't seem to get a handle on. "Souls are not mere _playthings_ , Little Kyle," he cocked his brow. "They require a lot of _give and take_ if you catch my drift."

The redhead straightened up, biting his lip firmly, the mint of his toothpaste still grating over his tongue. "What do you want for it?"

Red eyes sparkled, "Not even going to _offer_ something first?"

"I've heard fucking stories enough times to know that I wouldn't be able to make the final call," he glared. "So skip your fucking haggling _crap_ and tell me how I can save my fucking husband," he gestured out towards Kenny's slumped form.

"Ah yes, I almost _forgot_ that he took the vows," he remarked amusedly. "Funny, isn't it?"

"What?" he snapped.

Damien stepped closer once more, Kyle backing up straight against a wall as Damien crowded him in, watching alert flickering through those green eyes that Kenny loved to ramble about. "Unifying your soul with another's is a terribly _pathetic_ notion, especially considering that he doesn't have much to offer _you_ in return, hm?"

Kyle blinked at him, cocking his brow, "Whaddya mea-"

"I _mean_ that _your_ soul is _whole_. Therefore _you_ are sharing much more with him than he can share with _you_."

He frowned, "We fucking got married, we didn't go through a fucking _ritual_ to _literally_ share souls."

He rolled his eyes. "You humans are so fucking _stupid_ ," he drawled. "They're called _soulmates_ for a reason, Little Kyle. You see..." he smirked, poking Kyle's chest pointedly. "When one _finds_ their soulmate, their fates intertwine. They wrap around one another, filling in gaps missing in their partner's spirit. Your soul is _trying_ filling _all_ the gaps between the two of you," he moved his finger up, hitting Kyle's chin with his claw and tipping his head up to stare at him straight-on. "But he's missing so much it's almost _impossible._ You're already giving him so _much_...so what's a little more?" he purred.

Kyle forced a gulp to stop from receding down his throat, halting his trembling at Damien's methodic tone, the pure pleasure that he could see riding along that demonic profile. "What do you _want_?" he repeated.

"You know, McCormick _loves_ to talk about you."

"So you've mentioned," he murmured, a part of him wishing that Kenny _didn't_ like to brag about him so much. Or at least knew how to choose his fucking audience.

"You seem to be the _giving_ type," he drawled, leaning closer towards his face. Kyle's eyes widened at the lessened proximity. "So what are you willing to give for _him_?"

Kyle bit his tongue, eyes flickering to the door, towards the man now out of his line of sight. The answer was there, dancing in his minted mouth. But he was talking to someone who'd take it _seriously_. He breathed shakily at a thumb tracing his jawline, looking up and meeting that intense, _eager_ stare awaiting him. Kenny was out there, probably dreaming of what he thought to be his future: Yet another death just waiting to happen. Kyle shut his eyes, trembling at the overwhelming circumstance clouding his weary brain. "He told me of the problems," Damien remarked casually, continuing to brush along his chin. "Told me of what he's missed, how you won't have a _family_ because of the inconvenience..." Kyle cringed into himself, hearing the words once again spoken aloud just reigniting the hurt of a possible hollow future. Damien shook his chin, forcing him to look back up at his sly grin. "I can change that, little Kyle. I can _make your future happen_ ," he whispered hotly. "All you have to do...is say what we _both_ know already," he said innocently. "Just _what_ are you willing to give for Kenny's life?"

Kyle took a shaking breath, closing his eyes and nodding briskly. " _Everything,"_ he whispered desperately.

A cruel grin sliced up Damien's face, eyes going half-lidded at the prospect. "Even yourself?"

He gulped, "Defeats the purpose of mine and Ken's future if you _kill me_ , doesn't it?"

"Who said _kill_?" he clicked his tongue, tipping the redhead's face in his hands. Kyle wanted to shove him off, wanted to beat him senseless for casually fondling him as he was. But he was Kenny's only shot. He'd just have to tolerate it for right now. "I have to say, McCormick is an idiot, but he knows how to pick 'em," he smirked. Kyle's stomach lurched, feeling claws tracing up and resting in his curls, slowly grazing through them. Damien eyed the pure discomfort over the redhead with glee, feeling him twitching under his touch but refusing to let himself spring forward and act on instinct. Mortals and their _love_ was a powerful, but utterly _stupid_ thing.

Kyle's fingers scratched against the wall behind him, jaw trembling as his head was turned to the side and tilted, feeling Damien staring hungrily at his neck. "How will you save him?" he worked out, hating the _fear_ that was seeping through his words.

"Simple reconstruction," he informed him, eyes tracing the pale skin down to his collarbone jutting just slightly from Kenny's oversized t-shirt hanging off his skinny frame. "I take part of your soul, I fill in the gaps completely within his. He'll stay alive until his natural time to go...and I promise, that's not for quite some time down the line," he purred.

Kyle looked over at him, looking for falsity hiding in that smug stare. "What happens to me?"

He smirked, "Your soul becomes _my_ property, of course," he relayed smoothly.

He blinked, "So...I just go to Hell when I die? That's it?"

"Aw," he feigned a pout. "If _only_ it were so simple, little Kyle. You see, if I fill in _McCormick's_ soul with your own, that means _you_ take his place."

Kyle's eyes widened, shoulders slumping, "So...I'd...die like he does?" he whispered. "That just fucking switches the problems to me!"

He shrugged, "Not quite. With my hand involved, I control what your soul's rejuvenation frame will be. He dies because what little he has withers away and it needs reformed. This is why he spends his time in Hell. You will _also_ spend a few times a week in Hell...but for a _much shorter_ duration," he said mischievously. "You sate me, _I sate you_ ," he said bluntly.

"...Sate?" he nearly squeaked, gasping at the fingers on his chin turning to clasp around his bared throat.

Damien grinned, "I'll control how quickly you gain yourself back and can return safely to Earth. If you're _well behaved_ enough, it could be as short as maybe only a half hour," he said innocently. "As long as a _walk_. _If_ you're willing to play by my rules."

Kyle finally let that gulp swell down his throat, Damien's eyes smoldering at the feeling of pure anxiety rushing under his palm. "What rules?" he managed to croak out.

A dark, cruel chuckle breeched the air, Kyle yelping and turning his head as Damien leaned closer towards him, lips hovering above his ear. "You agree to be my little plaything and Kenny _lives_ ," he hissed, dragging his forked tongue over his ear. Kyle gasped for breath, heart beating out of control and his hand finally following instinct and coming up to grab around his domineering wrist, trying to pry the grip off of himself. "Do you _want_ him to continue to suffer?" he demanded, shaking him. "Just a little bit of your time, and a little bit of your body, and he'll be happy for the rest of _both your lives_ ," he reminded him harshly, staring at the tremors racking through the compromised man.

Kyle shut his eyes, seeing Kenny walking into the living room with that empty, defeated expression. He could hear his sobbing, feel the tears lying on his skin yet again. He'd watched him struggling for so long, and if what the demon was saying was _true..._ He'd never have to worry about that again, neither of them would. Their lives could finally _start_.

He blinked, tears beading his lashes that he refused to acknowledge. His breath left him in a wavering stream as he nodded slowly, feeling Damien's lips curling into a grin against his ear. "Fine," he whispered.

"Then we have a deal," Damien murmured excitedly, still holding him by the throat as he dragged him out of the bathroom into the darkened bedroom. He looked at Kenny shaking in his sleep and shook his head. Weak-willed mortal through and through. He walked over and threw Kyle back against the bed, his head slamming into Kenny's hip. The blonde stirred before falling back into his drug-induced state and slumping once more. Kyle shook, watching Damien reveal a long, iron-hilted dagger, twisting it fondly in his hand. "Don't worry," he cooed, reaching down and ripping off his shirt, watching Kyle collapsing backwards again and those jades engraved with fright in the subtle lighting. "I won't cut you _too much_."

Kyle whimpered as a hand slammed against his mouth, feeling his arms moving without his consent, without even being touched, tugged back over Kenny's sleeping form. He tried wiggling his fingers, body going into a complete panic at his inability to do so as Damien's eyes steadily began to glow, looking over his prey ravenously.

" _Accipite spiritum suum,"_ he licked over his lips, pressing the tip of the dagger under Kyle's ribcage and digging the blade down. Kyle shut his eyes, whining in pain as the point dove in through his skin. _"Relligo eam intra debillis."_ He shoved the blade down, scraping against bone and Kyle screamed, arching up in shock. His eyes flew open, gasping for air as his body began to twitch and convulse, his chest _burning_. His legs kicked instinctually before Damien pinned him down with his own shin, watching the redhead fighting for stance and grinning. He drew out his blade as he felt it surge with peaked energy, Kyle slumping as a wave of exhaustion slammed into him with the removal of the weapon.

Damien raised the dagger up to Kenny's spread hand along his pillow, watching him carefully as he placed a tiny nick onto his knuckle, watching him flinch in the slightest and resting the stained blade over the cut. Kenny took a long breath, Damien feeling the power leaking down out of his tool into the blonde's body. He looked over to see Kyle still panting under his hand, eyes glazed over and blood leaking down his side in a warm stream onto their sheets.

He grunted as the dagger went cold, drawing it back from Kenny and watching amusedly as the blonde's trembling stopped all at once. A long breath of relaxation left Ken's lips, head nuzzling against his pillow and a steady set of quiet snores filled the air. Damien glanced back at the redhead and grinned, waving his dagger away and leaning overtop of the dazed man. He raised his free hand, claws tracing up Kyle's hip to his deep-set wound. He waited, tracing his fingers over the cut until Kyle's eyes hit his own, weak realization flickering through them. _"Meus,"_ he hissed, plunging his first two fingers deep into the slash.

Kyle arched up again with a muffled cry, his body raging with turmoil as the spell leaked through Damien's fingers out into his bloodstream. He gasped, eyes fluttering weakly as his body tried to thrash, Damien not giving him the allowance to do so atop Kenny's quiet and _tranquil_ rest. Every nerve was firing, fighting valiantly against Damien's attempts to wire himself down into his body. Kyle shook his head under his hand, jaw trembling and tears leaking down his face. He'd never felt anything so _awful_. A wire inside of him was tightening around his lungs and heart, his breath was so shallow that he couldn't even be sure if he was _actually_ receiving air.

"Almost done," Damien murmured, watching the storm building within the redhead and grinning, a sickeningly terrifying silhouette in the dim lighting from the bathroom. Kyle let out a violent jerk as everything inside him seemed to snap all at once, the raging turmoil disappearing in an instant. He gasped for air, Damien relinquishing his limbs and mouth and Kyle gulped, shakily pushing himself off of Kenny. A wave of dizziness hit him and he groaned, rolling straight off the bed onto the floor, clawing at the carpet to try to find some semblance of a stance.

He was so tired, so _confused_ and _upset_. His eyes welled with tears, _maybe this was all Kenny ever felt._

"Time to rejuvenate, my little martyr," Damien's dark voice purred, the redhead's eyes shooting open in panic. He hissed as Damien grabbed him by the arm, hauling his exhausted form up and grabbing him around the waist. Kyle's body limply slumped in his hold, eyes locking on Kenny looking so _utterly peaceful_. He allowed a small smile to curl along his lips, letting himself forget for a moment just what he was in for to indulge in his husband getting the rest he so _desperately_ deserved.

Damien chuckled, tugging him closer and cupping his chin, bringing him upright and holding him steady against his chest. "Come on," he whispered hotly, Kyle's eyes widening as his vision of Kenny disappeared in lieu of a blank void, feeling Damien's arms tighten around him possessively and a hot mouth breathing against the back of his neck.

He closed his eyes and sniffled. _'It doesn't matter,'_ he thought weakly. _'Kenny can sleep.'_ He arched back against Damien as they passed out of the void into a searing heat, noise and sight piling back on him all at once. His head lolled in the limited amount the clawed hand allowed, dimmed eyes searching over the vast expansion of orange and red painted sky as they ascended through the charcoal ground. He yelped as Damien roughly turned him around, forcing him over to a large, smoothed slab cresting a towering spire of basalt. He groaned as Damien shoved his back against it, Kyle opening his dizzying eyes to see the antichrist staring him down with a hand clasped back around his throat.

He hummed amusedly, looking at his stab wound and chuckling. "Poor you," he clicked his tongue. "What _shit_ luck you have to be in such a mess, huh?" he squeezed his throat a little tighter, smiling at him struggling for air, hands coming up to weakly try to pry him away. "Are you trying to _fight me_?" he demanded. "Are you already _forgetting_ why you're here?" Kyle paused, looking at him with glassy eyes, breath barely eeking through in raspy wisps. Damien leaned forward, staring him down and smiling viciously. "You fucking fight, this contract is broken," he whispered harshly, slamming him once more against the rock. "The contract is broken and your precious fucking husband is right back on his routine. Do you understand me?"

Kyle blinked back a mess of tears, nodding through his daze. Damien tossed him to the side, watching him land in a curled mess on the ground, trembling as he felt the demon approaching him once again. His hand traced down under his ribs, feeling his oozing wound and biting his lip. "On your knees, little martyr," Damien barked.

Fighting down a stubborn bout of indignation, Kyle rolled up onto his patellae, looking down at the ground as Damien knelt beside him. His breath hitched as Damien leaned closer, breath ghosting over his shoulder. "Hm," Damien mused, tonguing over his lips. "Bet it kills you, doesn't it?" he jeered. "Having to just _take it?"_ he snapped his jaw down onto the crook of Kyle's neck, the redhead howling in agony as fangs sunk down into his veins. He whined, trying to stop himself from wriggling away.

Damien kept his fangs locked in, leading him down onto his back as he crawled over him. Kyle opened his waterlogged eyes to the sherbet sky, sobbing dryly as Damien moved to bit down on his upper arm, tearing through muscle and prodding into his humerus. Damien's hand came up, clutching the bottom of his chin and shoving his head back, Kyle wincing as the fangs receded yet again. Damien licked over his teeth, relishing in the heady taste of _anguish_ that he could sense radiating through the redhead.

He'd heard _plenty_ from Kenny over the years about the man under him. He was headstrong, fought his way out of anything he had to. He didn't take _anything_ lying down, always far too stubborn to realize what was good for him. He grinned deviously. Turns out Kenny was wrong, _he_ just didn't know _how to make it happen_.

He leaned over Kyle's compromised head, digging his thumb into the thin flesh over his throat. "So, is he worth this?"

"Yes," Kyle whispered, eyes scrunching as Damien pushed his skull back further against the ground.

Damien shook his head in amusement, free hand tracing along the bloodied wound on his shoulder, swiping the substance down his ashen skin. "Let's see if you still believe that when I'm done," he murmured. He placed his hand down beside Kyle's head, claws digging into the firm, cracking earth. _"Praestrigiae, sub voluntatem meam,"_ he licked his lips, watching dark forms beginning to move towards the both of them, slithering flatly against the landscape. Multiple streaks peeled off and away from their casters, hurrying towards their new commander.

He turned Kyle's head, watching his eyes widen, pupils fading into oblivion in a sea of algae as the shadows scurried towards them. He let out a panicked cry before a group slammed down over him, trapping him in cold air in individual streaks. The redhead gritted his teeth, teary eyes looking above him at Damien watching him like his own personal show. He looked as his arm was ensnared in a translucent grey fog, wrists being secured down beside him as his thighs were soon joined in the binding. He felt his pajamas being pushed down into his skin, the fabric coarse under the frigid touch.

Damien got off from the top of him, eyes glowing like a roaring bonfire as Kyle was ripped up off his back by the shapeless forms, the man screeching as he was slammed back into place on his knees. He whined, the binds tightening around him and trying to fight amongst one another to garnish full control over his captive body. A shadow wrapped around his waist and up around his chest, the cooled air like dry ice against his open wound. He hissed as it continued to elongate, stretching up the length of his body and coiling around his throat to hold his head steady.

Kyle was gasping for air, unable to find it in the overwhelming frenzy that was taking a hold of him. The surreal nature and the exhaustion was making for little more than a repeated mantra: _For him, for him, for_ _ **him**_."

He choked in surprise as air invaded his mouth, eyes blown wide at the inability to bite through the unwelcome visitor. It was like static along his tongue, tangible mist that turned solid, holding his jaw open. He whimpered, looking forward and wincing as he watched Damien observing him, pants undone and a hardening cock being played in his hand. Chest shaking with the rare allowed breath, wet tears slinging down his red cheeks as the umbra continued to hold him steady to Damien's whim, he was a sight to behold. Damien licked his lips, wondering if Kenny himself knew that his precious lover could be reduced into nothingness _so easily_. He was shattering under the touch of air itself, completely destabilized in his own consciousness. The demon chuckled, seeing through Kyle's eyes, knowing well enough of his brain trying to question whether or not it was 'all just a dream'.

He smirked, getting to his feet, watching the anxiety rebuilding as the shadows forced him to balance higher on his knees, icy grip winding tight as nooses around every held limb. "Poor little Kyle," he cooed, petting through his hair. Kyle sniffled, closing his eyes as hot skin edged closer to his hinged jaw. A sharp slap startled him back to attention, lashes fluttering fearfully. "You don't get to look away," he drawled. "One must _pay_ for their sins if they wish to be revived," he said, tightening his claws, digging them down into his scalp and pressing his hips forward against his open mouth. Kyle's throat began convulsing immediately, every ounce of his previously cleaned tongue melting away with the introduction of Damien's tainted skin. The noirette hummed from the back of his throat, feeling Kyle trying to push his tongue to the bottom of his mouth, avoid all contact that he could as the gloom holding him began to lead him along the skin and shadow alike. His jaw was stretched painfully wide, chapped lips from a constant barrage of winter mountain air being cracked open. He couldn't breathe between the alternating movements of the shadows and Damien's cock.

Another slap rang across his cheek. "You _look_ ," Damien ordered, Kyle barely able to recognize he'd even closed his eyes, trying to escape this horrible situation into his imagination where he was safe with Kenny. His _old_ Kenny, the one that was so happy and full of life. The one that pulled Kyle out of his own slumps and made him a better person along the way. He laughed and made Kyle laugh with him, he clapped excitedly when things went his way, he shrugged off bad situations and took Kyle away to his own head to make them both forget the terrors of the real world.

This time, though, the real world had Kyle seated in Hell, and he sobbed to himself, wondering if even Kenny would be able to walk him through another guiding light process at the end of it all.

He looked to see Damien grinning at him triumphantly, eyes gleaming with an ego unmatched. Kyle groaned, the taste flooding his mouth was bitter; A mold rubbing along his tongue. He wondered if he'd _ever_ get it out, if Kenny's kiss or his favorite coffee or fucking _dirt_ could rid him of this horror. The cold form in his mouth suddenly began to expand upwards, forcing Kyle's jaw to open to where he thought it'd snap clean in half. He whined, fingers twitching as they remained trapped, held on either side of him. He wanted to punch, to scratch. He wanted to regain a _touch_ of dignity, not let Damien see him as _submissive_ and _helpless_.

The demon was beside himself, relishing in the lush touch of ember curls and the slick heat of Kyle's gaping mouth. He watched as thrust by thrust, the fierce panic and lingering anger raging through those emerald eyes began to fade. He was taking him apart one move at a time, purposefully slowing his hips to watch the show better. Kyle took a hiccup of a breath at the reprieve, groaning as the heavy skin pressed further back again, slipping onto the cusp of his throat. His tongue fell into a spastic fit, mouth flooding with saliva as every ounce of him tried not to retch at the treatment.

Damien chuckled, ripping out of his mouth and watching the drool rain down his chin, mouth overtaken with the shadow again before he could so much as squeak, the form stretching enough to fill every nook and cranny of his jaw. It slithered between his teeth, the chill a sharp cut against his gums. He sniffled miserably.

The antichrist smiled maliciously, eyes sparking as Kyle was ripped upwards, hovering in the air on his back from the hold of the intangible forms. The redhead groaned, the coil around his back tightening, forcing him to arch upwards and feeling Damien's eyes tracing over his floating body. "See?" he murmured, fingers tracing up his pant leg. "You behave and the end will come soon enough," he purred, grabbing the cotton Denver Nuggets fabric and tearing it apart. Kyle fell back into hot sobs, every inch of exposure beyond what he thought he could possibly handle. He screamed around the block in his mouth as each shred of his dignity fell into a pile beneath him.

Umbra wrapped firmly around his thighs pulled his legs apart, moving him to Damien's dictation around his hips. Claws ran up his thighs and waist, forked tongue clucking as he observed him jerking around in the uncomfortable hold. Kyle was spread for him like a feast, a foolish mortal making a _foolish_ sacrifice for a couple decades of _smiles_. It was disgusting, something that contradicted everything Kenny had told the demon of his husband being 'the smartest guy he knew'. No one of any degree of intelligence would lay themselves out like this; let themselves be taken by another for someone else's benefit. Especially when it was something that Kenny _was used to,_ just a tad upset over the situation. Damien smirked to himself, murmuring a simple spell of " _Inlitus",_ thick lubrication seeping from his hand as he smeared it in his palm. Well, regardless of how utterly _ridiculous_ Kyle's actions were, he couldn't judge the man _too_ much.

After all, he certainly got a lovely end of the deal.

Kyle groaned, entire body twitching as Damien leaned closer towards him, hands curling up around his neck and hair. He felt a hot, wet force pressing against his hole and he whimpered, looking at the sky once again and just _praying_ for it to end, and soon.

He arched with a vicious scream as the shadows forced his unprepared body down onto the skin, beginning to mercilessly pulse him along the branding heat. Damien watched him being limply led along, grunting at the tight warmth enclosing him and Kyle's thighs twitching angrily around his body. He grabbed his curls, beginning to meet the timing of the movement, slamming against Kyle's ass hard enough to evoke a gagged screech on every point of contact. Ripping his head down, he shook the boy by his hair. "What did I _say_?" he demanded.

Kyle's shoulders heaved, forcing himself to open his eyes to see the demon violating him with such _pride_. His arms were torn further, stretching to their limits and being forced down, contorting him into a balletic arch that took Damien's breath away. His raised chest heaved, popping collarbone standing prominently with his ribs. He was the pure definition of weak, and Damien was completely intoxicated with taking every inch in. He was going to sip Kyle down bits at a time, let him have his few days of happiness before ripping him back into the fire to remind him of _just who he belonged to_ before repeating it all over again.

He released the man's hair, watching his neck fall back limply with an agonized groan. Narrow hipbones danced in the light, coming undone at the touch of Damien's sharp talons. The redhead was a clashing disaster of porcelain, ash, and carmine. Every inch of him was taut, colored to Damien's will as he continued to run his claws over various parts of his torso.

Kyle stared at the landscape upside-down, contorted into so uncomfortable a position that each breath felt as though it would snap his ribs clean in half. He felt Damien tracing over his stab wound, playing in the collective blood and running it down his hips. He winced, tears slipping up around the sides of his nose and drizzling down his forehead. He shut his eyes, wondering if he was alive at all, or if he really _did_ take Kenny's place in it all. Because he sure as hell couldn't imagine his mortal body taking such ferocious abuse. He winced as his back was forced upright, finding himself staring once again into those evil eyes.

"Pity," Damien murmured, forcing him to be pulled down harder. He was going to break the man on his cock, going to watch him crumble into pieces and revel in the warmth that only such disparity could provide. He leaned forward, tongue dragging up over Kyle's face and watching him cringe at the toxic violation. "I bet you would've put up a great fight," he taunted, claws digging down into his thighs, piercing the skin up to the knuckle. Kyle screamed, head lolling in disorientation at the sudden stabbing agony coinciding with the continuous propelling inside of him. He was catching fire, every ounce of him was being set to simmer him down to his bare bones, make him into a broth for Damien's dining pleasure.

The devil chuckled, forehead against Kyle's sweated counterpart as he continued to push into the tight body time and again. "Self-sacrifice...means _nothing_ ," he panted. "Not when you lose so _much_ , little Kyle."

The redhead stared at him, yelping at each thrust but the tears halting for but a moment. Damien watched in interest as a determined smolder danced within the thrashing sea of green; a buoy finally finding its way through the storm. He grinned. _There_ was the man he'd heard so very much about. And there was the target; the one to corner at the end of it all. Kyle's head was held high now; dedicating his all to his blonde lover, thinking to himself that every cut, every mark was enough to know that he'd brought _some_ form of happiness.

But it was only a matter of time. Kenny made it twenty six years without a breakdown from his unfortunate happenstance. Just how long would it take Kyle?

Damien couldn't _wait_ to find out.

He launched forward, fangs sinking down into his neck as his hips pressed faster, shadows pulling Kyle back against the assault violently enough to pull his muscles, feeling his bones creak under their ironclad hold. He whimpered, head lolling to the side as Damien suckled bitterly against his throat, shaking his head like a rabid dog tearing into his meat. That's all Kyle was; his _meat_. He was the substance which he could personally control the weakness of each fiber of muscle and shape him to his liking, sending him through the slaughterhouse on a personal tour time and again before letting him back into his pasture to graze. Security in the grass could only last so long before he was sent back to see his inevitable fate time and again. And Kyle could do nothing but sit there and _let him_.

Damien trembled at the notion, ripping out of him and the shadows slamming him down onto the ground on the sides of his legs, ripping his head back up. Kyle flinched as a few more strokes from Damien's hand broke the floodgate onto his face and chest, turning his head and panting. He groaned in disgust, feeling the slimy mixture creeping down his body, a signature to remind him so very well of just what he'd been put through.

Damien could hardly catch his breath, taken away by Kyle's debauched form as he sat there trembling, legs curling into himself protectively from the loosened hold of the creatures. He put himself away, kneeling down and grabbing his chin, forcing him back forward. He smirked, watching the cum trailing down his paled face, the dancing veins webbing through emotionally distraught eyes. "Such a shame," he repeated. The shadows began receding at once back to their proper places clinging onto trees and rocks. The one in Kyle's mouth slid out slowly, his jaw slack as it left him and heavy, wheezing pants coming from his throat. Damien ran his thumb down a trail of his mess, pressing it against Kyle's bared tongue and listening to his disgusted whine with glee.

Kyle was out of a proper state of being, everything mismatching against one another as he slowly slid down a route of further exhaustion. His glazed eyes met Damien's sparkling rubies; a promise that this wasn't the last time they would see each other.

Damien leaned down near his lips, hot breath dancing between their mouths. "Still worth it?" he smirked.

That flicker of strength just barely made its way through as Kyle slipped down towards unconsciousness, only Damien's hands holding him steady as his head fell back limply. A bare whisper hardly breeched the air, one that filled Damien's stomach with a rising excitement of just what the future held for them both. _"Yes"._

* * *

"Ay. Ayyyy, Ky. Geeett up, Ky." a voice broke over him and he groaned, delving his head down into the familiarity of his pillow. He shot his eyes open. _His pillow_. He rocketed up, nearly falling over himself, looking to see Kenny catch him with a cocked brow and a small smile. "Dude, you okay?"

"What? I...When..." he looked around their room and gulped, eyes flickering to make sure every detail was as he remembered it, praying he wasn't caught in an overly-hopeful dream.

Kenny smirked, flicking his nose lightly. "Your alarm's been goin' off for like, twenty minutes," he pointed to Kyle's charging phone pointedly. His face fell the slightest in concern, "Seriously. Are you all right?"

Kyle nodded briskly, running his fingers through his disastrous hair. "I...Yeah. Yeah, I'm...fine..." he breathed. "Just...crazy night," he murmured.

"Hm," he grinned, cupping his chin and kissing him in a manner Kyle hadn't felt from him in _months_. The blonde backed up and winked, "Come on, get up and get out to the kitchen, I got somethin' for ya that'll make ya allllll better," he promised.

He turned on his heel and briskly walked out of the room, leaving Kyle staring after him in shock. He grabbed the collar of Kenny's replaced oversized t-shirt, narrowing his eyes as he yanked it down, finding no fang marks. "What the fuck," he whispered. That was way too real. That _couldn't_ have been a fucking dream of all fucking things.

Kyle turned to get out of the bed, wincing as aching legs hit the floor and toppling over. He groaned, forcing himself up onto his knees and rubbing his neck. He glanced down, noticing blue plaid plastering his legs and his heart hitched. This wasn't what he went to bed in.

He hissed, grabbing the nightstand and hauling himself up, wincing at a pain in his side. He pulled up the t-shirt, eyes widening at a clear stab wound cresting the underside of his ribs, already scarred and healed over. "What?" he whispered harshly, eyes flittering around, looking at the bed sheets clean of his spilt blood. " _It was real_ ," he bit his lip, trembling as the reintroduction of cold and heat washed over him in a surreal, engulfing moment. He shivered, grabbing Kenny's hoodie from the bedpost and throwing it over himself, sliding on his slippers and standing clasping around his arms in bitter, solemn silence, trying to find a semblance of reality as memories and _pains_ washed over him anew.

" _Ky, come onnnnn. Are you fucking jerkin' off in there or what?"_

Kyle shot his head up, blinking slowly at the nearly unfamiliar energetic tone and gulping. He carefully meandered his way out of their bedroom, a hand planted against the wall as he slipped into the hallway and worked his way down. He was nothing but aches and stiff joints. His entire lower half was beyond frustrated with his insistence of movement. He bit his tongue, wincing at a memory of the taste of mold before it faded just as quickly as it came. He slowly turned the corner into the kitchen, seeing Kenny standing at the table gesturing with a wide smile on his face. "Ta daaaaa," he proclaimed.

Kyle looked down, seeing broken fried eggs and half-burnt toast set on plates with over-creamed coffee resting beside them. "You...you made...breakfast?" he said in disbelief.

"I made you dippy eggs," he grinned before it faded a bit. "I kinda fucking suck at them. But...I got most of the dippy part off the skillet?" he winced.

The redhead looked from the plates to his husband, watching him with a silent, studying expression. Kenny narrowed his eyes in the slightest. "Kyle, I'm dead serious. Are you okay?"

"Are...are _you_?" he said meekly.

Kenny blinked, cocking his head naively. "Actually...I feel...great," he laughed awkwardly, scratching up through his hair. "I haven't slept that nice in years...I actually have some fucking energy. I don't know what to do with it."

Kyle bit his lip, creeping up closer to him and staring intently at his face. "You're...in a good mood," he observed. Kenny shrugged and nodded slowly, wondering just what the hell was happening with Kyle's sudden _study_ of him. He watched, heart lurching as tears welled in Kyle's eyes, a contradicting smile spreading over his face, combatting the pure misery starting to fall down his cheeks. "That's...so great," he croaked, looking down and sniffling, wiping his lashes with the hoodie sleeves.

"Kyle, what the fuck is wrong?" he asked in a panic, moving to bend down in front of him and clasp his shoulders. "What the hell happened?"

He paused, a heavy gulp working down his hoarse throat. "Nothing," he finally whispered, leaning forward and clutching Kenny desperately in a hug. The blonde blinked before quickly returning the embrace, staring down at his curls as he nuzzled against his chest, still crying.

"Hey, hey, hey," he cooed, kissing his forehead. "I gotcha." Kyle just clung a little tighter, emotions in an uproar over where to direct himself. Kenny felt him shifting through the motions, resting his chin in his wild hair and smacking his lips. "Why don't I call you out of work?" he murmured, pecking his curls. "Sounds like you need a day to relax, Babe." Kyle nodded silently sans a soft sniffle, allowing Kenny to move him to his chair and sit him down, the blonde kneeling in front of him and watching him curiously. "I'll be right back," he promised, reaching into his pocket and snagging their cigarettes, popping one into Kyle's mouth. The redhead blinked as Kenny lit it up, shooting him that crooked grin that he'd missed _so much_. "Back in a flash, we'll talk it out," he reiterated, kissing his cheek and heading off to their bedroom to get Kyle's phone and call his office.

Kyle watched after him, methodically pulling the cigarette from his lips, breathing in the menthol and shuddering. He glanced down, catching the cherry glowing its vibrant, _burning_ shade and his jaw trembled before hearing Kenny's voice from their room. The strength seemed to be back in the blonde, energy renewed and the beginnings of happiness _finally_ finding him once again. Kyle's free hand wrapped down around his ribs, feeling the scar resting there, and closing his eyes with a tear trailing down his cheek onto trembling lips curled into a relieved, wistful smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Kyle you idiot don't make deals with the devil how many times have I told you. (okay never I encourage this behavior it makes my day shhh)
> 
> Thanks for R&Ring!
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Accipite spiritum suum - Take his spirit
> 
> Relligo eam intra debillis - Bind it within the weak
> 
> Meus - Mine
> 
> Praestrigiae, sub voluntatem meam - Shadows, under my will


End file.
